Free When Hari Met His Saali by Harsh Warrdhan Page B

said that they should look for his tuxedo now. Hari was really tired, so he simply said that if it was decided that he should wear a cream-colored tuxedo, he’d pick one himself.
    ‘Remember Hari; the important thing here is the color of the tux — cream. It’s got to be cream to go with my cream-colored gown.’
    The day seemed to never end for Hari. Next Tia took him to the flower designer. He didn’t even know such a thing existed and he had to question the validity and necessity of such a person. He shouldn’t have mentioned it because Tia and the flower designer, Cassandra, proceded to lecture him on the importance of color schemes and the botanical matching of different flowers.
    Next there was the designer for the invitations card. This time Hari kept quiet. He had a team of designers in his office and the invitations could have been designed in fifteen minutes flat, but he knew better and didn’t suggest
that
idea. You see Hari had employed a strategy. If anything at all were to go wrong during the engagement ceremony Tia was going to make it hisfault. That was a given. So Hari was not taking a stand. Sure he was feigning interest, but if someone had analyzed his handling of the day, they would see that he did not make a single decision. He wanted that on record, just in case.
    Tia, on the other hand, had an ecstatic day. There were times during the day when she wondered if all this planning, booking and decision-making was more exciting than getting engaged. I mean it was all shopping, wasn’t it, with a sort of
splurge
license, there was no upper-limit, because it was her engagement. By the time she got back home after dropping Hari, it was late evening and she was tired. Satisfied but tired.
    This was almost better than sex. Satisfied but tired.
    Just as she was putting her feet on the table a reminder went off on her phone and the gratitude chart from that morning appeared on the screen. Now she could read it. She had, after all, every reason to be thankful. But when she glanced over it she suddenly felt guilty, remembering her mother and her sister, Simi.
    Oh God! — I haven’t replied to Simi’s text!
    But before she did reply to Simi, Tia set a reminder to contact Mr. Minto and book the venue as soon as he was back from France next week.
    Then she texted Simi.
    Sure. Let’s Skype today at 1 p.m. my time. Hope you’re not in trouble. Tia.
    Late evening — Nagpur, India
    Simi had been waiting for a reply from Tia for six hours. It was almost time for her nightly TV session. She had spent all day wondering if Tia had guessed that she was calling to ask for money and had not replied because she was angry with her. She was walking around feeling like a loser when Tia’s message came through. Simi was suddenly overcome with emotion. It was as if all the organs in her body had realigned and she could finally breathe again. A smile appeared on Simi’s face and she had an uncontrollable urge to hug Tia. In spite of all of their dysfunctional dynamics, she still loved her sister. She immediately texted back:
    Not in trouble. Will ping you sharp at 1 p.m. Luv, Simi.
    After she had hit send, she read her message again.
    Look at the way you text, it reads like a telegram!
    Simi realized that one a.m. was still four hours away. She took out her laptop and the headphones from the bedroom. Luckily her mother didn’twake up. She set the alarm on her mobile and before she knew it she had fallen asleep.
    Mid-morning — Los Angeles
    Tia had walked into her office with a schedule in her mind. She’d finish her lunch meeting with a client, get back to the office in time to Skype with Simi at one o’clock, and hoped to be out of the office by five p.m. sharp to be on time for dinner at Hari’s house at seven p.m.
    When she entered Stephan’s office, he was on phone with his wife, Clara. He motioned her to sit. As she sat down, she looked at her boss. He must have been a catch for Clara, she thought.
    Look at him;